


What A Household

by cKayE



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 10:37:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19316476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cKayE/pseuds/cKayE
Summary: Asher Mackay didn't think anything good would come from her troubelsome past, little did she know it was the thing that gave her the best relationshups of her life. Now a recovering alcoholic, she lives with some of the most passionate, irritable and lovable people she knows.  There are just a few potential problems: Her roommates and their relationships and her temper.





	What A Household

**Author's Note:**

> This story was made by my sister who asked me to edit it and upon her request, I have posted it.

I lazily picked up the glass that was on the bedside table. My head pounded as my shaking hands nearly dropped the cool drink. The party last night was a blur, I didn’t remember any of it. I groaned as the light from my window streamed onto my bed, my own natural alarm clock. I took a tentative sip from the glass, my eyes still closed and spat it straight back into the cup. The taste of beer once again filled my mouth with its bitter, tangy goodness. Wrong drink. I opened my eyes only to shut them tightly thanks to the morning sun's blinding rays. I slowly opened them again and glanced at the glass in my hand. Yep. Beer. 

I placed the cup down and grabbed the glass of water next to it, nearly knocking over a half-empty beer bottle in the process. I skulled the drink, feeling slightly satisfied… and then I heard the shower turn on. 

“Haven’t you people ever heard of sharing the goddamn shower. No? You better get out now!” I yelled. I'm pretty sure I needed it more than anyone else. 

“Ha Asher! The shower is mine!” I heard the one and only, Brendon Urie yell back to me. I grunted in annoyance. 

“And don’t take my lyrics!” He thundered. I rolled my eyes. 

“They’re not even the same words! You know how weird that would sound?” The yelling made my brain feel like it was doing backflips. I heard Brendon chuckle over the sound of the water hitting the tiles.

“I know that,” he mused, “But can you imagine how fuckin’ lit it coulda' been?” I heard him laugh once more and then break out into 'I Write Sins, Not Tragedies' - the newly made shower edition.

"This is what I deserve for getting bloody drunk." I sighed to myself. When was I going to learn? I extended a foot to the floor only to kick something, or better yet, someone... in the head. I cringed. Who had I inflicted damage upon now?

It was Dallon. I don't remember much of last night, but I do remember that he had got pretty smashed too. I'm fairly certain Brendon, Dallon and I were raving up here to the music downstairs. There was jumping on the bed, sharing drinks (which mostly consisted of beer and shots) ... and then I guess I passed out. Now, Dallon's giraffe physique was splayed over the floor.

"Hey, keep it down asshole. Dallon's asleep on the floor here." I yelled as quietly as I could. If that makes sense?

"He's not asleep, he's unconscious! The fucker could sleep through a zombie apocalypse when he's hungover - it's happened before. I mean, he did sleep through the whole movie." Brendon cackled and continued his acapella session.

He had a point; the guy didn't even stir when I kicked him... 

"Hope he's not dead..." I peered over the edge of the bed. He was still breathing while a little bit of drool was forming at the corner of his mouth. "Not dead," I sighed to myself.

As I lay in bed a little longer, trying to let my pounding headache calm down a bit - to no avail - I heard Tyler Joseph singing one of his songs ‘The Judge’ from the pair's Blurryface album. I got up once more and stumbled over to the door, gingerly stepping over the Dallon obstacle. I slowly opened it and fell again, only to be caught by a passing, pink haired, Josh Dun. 

“Slow down there,” Josh laughed, his eyes crinkling at the edges.

I only hummed in reply to avoid saying anything stupid and embarrass myself I my hungover – and possibly still drunken – state. He wrapped a secure arm around my waist, causing my stomach to flutter. Josh led me to the kitchen littered with empty solo cups and various bottles vacant of their addictive substances. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t have had so many last night,” He pointed out, giving me a wink. He may have been joking, but he's right. I shouldn't have had anything last night.

Josh's phone dinged as he helped me slide onto the stool in the white kitchen where Tyler was cooking. The moment Josh let go of my waist to check his phone I felt unstable. I covered my head with my hands as my brain continued to knock on my skull. Hearing a slight scraping on the counter, I looked up to see Tyler theatrically sliding two aspirin towards me. Once they were within my reach, he comically retreated, palms facing me in surrender as he backed away. I rolled my eyes and swallowed the pills dry. If only they would get rid of the guilt too.

Last night was my first time getting drunk in five weeks. Good job Asher! I should tell Gerard about my best run yet... Sarcasm, could you tell?

“Breakfast?” Tyler asked me, worry etched into his sympathetic smile. 

“Yeah,” I mumbled. He placed eggs and bacon on a plate and slid it over to me. The clatter of the knives and forks seared through my head.   
Bloody headache. 

I picked up the fork and scoffed the eggs. They burned my throat, but they were the perfect hangover foods.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, my mouth full. 

I heard someone move down the stairs. Well actually, it sounded like they galloped down in threes, stepped up two and repeated the process. Only one person could be filled with so much energy after a bender. Brendon. I was rewarded with his yell - confirming my suspicions. 

"Shower is as vacant of use as my body is of clothing.” I looked over my shoulder confused and saw a very nude Brendon. It’s not like I haven’t seen him naked before, our friendship has little to no boundaries, but it’s never something I welcome.

“Brendon! Really? Please. No!” I shouted, covering my eyes as if it would erase the image from my mind.

"My eyes man. My poor eyes!" Tyler moaned, covering his face.

Brendon just laughed and continued, “I’m gonna make all you ladies jealous.” He struck a pose just as Gerard Way came downstairs. He immediately stopped, eyes wide, turned around and headed straight back up, shaking his head. I noticed his cheeks were becoming the same shade of red as his hair. 

“Brendon, really?” Josh asked as he quirked an eyebrow. The nude man shrugged, grinning as he retrieved his underwear from the pristine, white couch. 

"Didn't have any clothes," he responded nonchalantly.

Tyler shook his head before proceeding to grab the pair of jeans Brendon had left draped across the kitchen island and pegged them at the partly dressed man. We were all rewarded with the satisfying sound of denim slapping a face – Brendon’s face to be precise.

“Ow!” Brendon exclaimed, yanking the pants off his face, “Harsh man!”

“Well, you can’t go walking around naked in other people’s houses dude,” Josh muttered matter-of-factly while looking intently at his phone. 

“That’s exactly right Josh. It’s my house!” I pointed a fork at Brendon accusingly while the relentless pounding in my head finally began to subside. 

“Am I currently living in this house? Yes, I am. So, it’s my house as well Asher.” He joked with a laugh before crashing to the floor after tripping on the jean pants leg. He scrambled up, a scowl on his face as we laughed. Brendon hastily zipped up his fly and came to sit down next to me before clapping his hands and rubbing them together eagerly,

“Chef Tyler! Bacon, eggs, coffee. Stat!” 

Tyler nodded and turned around smiling. 

Gerard had finally re-entered the room grabbing a black coffee Tyler must have made prior to the Brendon fiasco – how he drinks those things, I don’t know. They were nothing but water and a very strong shot of caffeine. It took black coffee to a whole other level. 

Gerard proceeded to make his way to the lounge and sat down on the couch as he grabbed his notebook and pencils from the coffee table and started sketching. I watched as he occasionally brushed his bright red hair out of his eyes and began humming a tune softly in the rare silence. 

Brendon began tapping a beat on the marble bench while Josh joined in with another. I shoved the bacon into my mouth and started humming any random tunes could think of, trying to swallow my food as quickly as possible. Tyler promptly turned the bacon in the pan and ran upstairs to retrieve his ukulele, taking three steps at a time. He returned, jumping down the stairs and strummed some strings, beginning to sing along with me. 

Gerard put down his notebook and sung with Tyler while I decided to harmonise instead, Brendon hitting the high notes with ease. While we continued singing, Brendon took my hands and pulled me off the chair. He spun me around while we jumped and danced. 

Tyler plopped himself onto the marble bench moving my plate with his feet and played ukulele with more intensity. We were all dancing, jumping and singing; swapping dance partners over and over. 

I looked over at Josh still slapping the table madly and kicking the bench, making our voices sound so much better. I smiled at him, seeing him practically jumping out of his chair every hit of the table. Springs on his chair would suit him. He began to pick up the tempo, causing even louder singing and more aggressive lyrics from some concepts we made yesterday morning. 

My hands were pulled again, this time by Gerard swinging them back and forth as we danced, causing my gaze to be taken off Josh. Once again, the pink-haired drummer increased the tempo. 

We sang louder, and Tyler strummed harder. The lyrics changed to some of Gerard's own lyrical concepts, causing the red-head to scream some staccato notes creating a pause from the rest of us. In barely a heartbeat, Tyler and Josh, as if mentally linked, continued playing. 

Tyler hopped off the counter and began jumping up and down, while yelling, "No Gerard, keep going! Keep going! The exhilaration!" 

Gerard laughed and continued singing his unique style, Brendon mimicking in his "positive hard-core" voice. Gerard pushed him in mock offense, laughing as he did so.

We were getting to the end of the made-up song when the doorbell rang causing us to complete another of our occasional "morning masterpieces". With Tyler strumming the last chord and Josh pretended to drum roll, we all clapped while I yelled over the cheers,

“I’ll get it!” I ran to the door and swung it open to see a very pissed off old woman. My smile dropped as quickly as my mood as I realised that she was my neighbour.   
Shit. 

“You're the owner of this residence?” Her voice cracked at me. Her grey hair, a little like her face I mused, was short and spikey. And boy, if looks could kill...

"Um, yes ma’am.” 

Her nostrils flared, “Well, I want you to come to my house and clean it up this instant. Your party from last night moved it its way into my front and backyard. You're lucky I’m not calling the police!” She snapped,

My eyes widened in shock.

“U-um, I'm really s-sorry Miss, I didn’t mean for that to happen. I-I’ll get the rest of my housemates and we'll clean it up as soon as possible.” She turned on her heel and marched off back into her house. I walked back into the connected kitchen and lounge space to see laughter spread.

“Who was it?” Tyler looked up at me with concern. 

“An old lady, my neighbour. She wants us to clean up her yard because that’s where the party went.” 

I heard Brendon spit out his coffee and turn around the colour draining from his face.

“Hang on, that was her yard?!” 

I began to walk towards him causing him to avoid eye-contact.

“Yes. You didn’t have anything to do with it, did you?” I stopped in front of him and put both of my hands on his knees. My face was so close to his, our noses were nearly touching. Usually, friends wouldn’t do this, but we were so close that it meant nothing. Our friendship dynamic was a little different from what one would call average. His eyes snapped to meet mine and stuttered.

“Well... it wasn’t my fault. It was the alcohol's fault!” He exclaimed timidly.

I narrowed my eyes at him, “You son of a bi-“

“Wait!" Josh came in between, "Asher, what happens if we just clean it up? There done!” He seemed uncomfortable with the closeness, as he tried to straighten up between us. My cheeks reddened as he grabbed my hands and sat me down on the couch. They all knew, once one swearword escaped my mouth, it would be World War III. However, the guns were my words - and occasionally hands - while the rest of them were the enemy lines. They would do anything to prevent that from happening. 

I sighed, changing the subject to weaken my anger and asked,

“Where’s Frank? I haven’t seen him all morning.” We looked around the room to try and find the short man. 

"Uh, he's sleeping! I think. We… He had a big night I guess," Gerard answered, rubbing the back of his neck as he did so. A couple of us looked at him confused, others expectant. 

"I'll get him," Gerard exclaimed with unnecessary urgency. Now everyone in the room looked at him with puzzled expressions. Well... everyone but me. Gerard avoided the many stares as he hurried upstairs. I could only guess why he was so flustered - Frank Iero must have "spent" the night with Gerard.

Once he left, we all decided to get the day started and clean up Brendon's "alcohol accident" in our bitter neighbour's yard. I figured Gerard, Frank and the severely hung-over Dallon would catch up. Our day ahead was going to be a long one.


End file.
